


Timely Lovers

by elisi, redjaded (timeheist)



Series: The Redjay [12]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisi/pseuds/elisi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeheist/pseuds/redjaded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stories about Roda and the Seeker, and how they became more than friends. (This particular story takes place during Roda's 7th regeneration and Alexander's 2nd, and is set about a year after <a href="the-redjay.livejournal.com/238748.html">Last One Standing</a> and nearly 200 years after the current arc of <a href="elisi.livejournal.com/433817.html">Dating the Cleverest Boy in the World</a>. )</p><p>A series of chronological one-shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cosmic Kids (by luckweaver)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elisi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisi/gifts).



> Master post of the Seeker & Roda stories [here](http://elisi.livejournal.com/805947.html). Alexander 'the Seeker' Saxon belongs to elisi, and is one of my favourite OCs ever. This is a long overdue gift that originally hails from that 'rare ships' meme I did a while ago, and is a little difficult to explain as I don't know what happened to Alex (spoilers all round, though it fits, since Roda doesn't either). Anyway, hope you like it Love! Oh, and the title came from Growing Up by Bruce Springsteen (which if I had to admit I shamelessly shipped this fic, could be their song): 
> 
> _I took month-long vacations in the stratosphere, and you know it's really hard to hold your breath_  
>  _I swear I lost everything I ever loved or feared, I was the cosmic kid in full costume dress_  
>  _Well, my feet they finally took root in the earth, but I got me a nice little place in the stars_  
>  _And I swear I found the key to the universe in the engine of an old parked car_

_**Roda** _

_**Got screwed over by time, and I need someone. Will you be my someone tonight?**_

_**(Sorry about the bluntness of this by the way, but my current regeneration is about as romantic as a pair of bolt cutters. Hope you don't mind too much.)**_

_**S.**_

Roda wasn’t sure why she’d answered Alex’s message. Or rather, she wasn’t sure in what capacity she had done so. With a message like that… Well, what with his parentage, Roda would have been perfectly willing to throw the hypercube into the void if she wasn’t certain that to do so was perfectly unfair to someone who was unexpectedly dear to her. But how did you answer a message like that? Had Alex contacted her as a friend, as something akin to an aunt, or as something or someone else? Had no one else been available? Not that the latter scenario bothered her, really; she’d understand what was going on marginally better if Alex had gone to Jack first, or to one of his human friends.

Reading people had never been one of Roda’s strengths. She considered herself a good judge of character, and could usually tell if someone was going to shoot her or thank her, but emotions were a funny thing. It took her some time to get to know a person, at which point they became an open book, but she’d been on her own – in governmental and self-inflicted exile – for so long that until she had that moment of epiphany, interactions were terrifying things with a mind of their own that would leap out of the shadows with a social faux pas as soon as look at you. It occurred to her briefly that perhaps Alex had come to a Time Lord, or Lady, for the same reason; because human social niceties just didn’t fit.

Alex was somewhere between the tricky stage and the comfortable one. When he’d been born, and throughout his first regeneration, he’d been the impossible child, who was more pleasant than expected. But in this regeneration it had been different; he was a first amongst the Time Lords that she’d known for becoming a different person all together. She’d only seen him grow up from a distance, but it was a close enough one to know that he’d grown into himself like a good pair of gloves and that the Seeker was not Alexander Saxon - ‘Alexander the Great’, the Master’s heir and weapon. The Time Lord she knew now, no longer a tot, was no longer someone that she secretly, silently, feared.

It was something about the look in Alex’s eyes, she realised, opening the TARDIS door and letting him in. She couldn’t put a finger on it. Intelligence, and pain, and the maternal side of her wanted to pull him into a hug and try to make things better. But in recent months, working with him to rebuild her TARDIS and research his plans to rebuild the Matrix, he’d seemed more mature in her eyes. Maternal no longer seemed to fit.

He suited red hair well, she’d decided, and there was a nice shape to his jaw that she might want to run her fingertips over, had he been someone else. And then there was that coat of his, which Roda was absolutely enamoured with. It didn’t help that Jack and Alex flirted too, often when she was in the room. Of course Jack flirted with everyone – herself included, and Gallifrey, was he good in bed! – but… With Alex, it only confirmed that he was an adult. And so when his hypercube had turned up at her door followed by the Seeker himself…

Alex’s hypercube had an S carved onto the side. Roda’s was stained with woad fingerprints and now, so were her trousers and hands. She’d cleaned them enough that they wouldn’t stain anything they’d touched after sending her reply but her skin would be blue for a few days, and her trousers would need scrubbing. Her reply had been written on autopilot, for fear of over-thinking her answer or overanalysing the message. Roda had stuck to a simple ‘you’re always welcome’ and a promise to track his hypercube and pick him up in an hour. She’d tracked the message to Alex’s planet, landed in her usual place in his grand, circular courtyard, and Alex himself had been outside the door, looking more haggard than usual, before she’d even reached for the handle.

At least, so said the proximity alarms.

“You came.” His smile was obviously forced. Jack often wore a similar one. Roda’s would have been equally so (it was hard to smile looking at someone so sad) and rather than lie to him she just opened her arms, inviting him to step into them. After a moment’s hesitation Alex did so, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if you would. I’m a terrible flirt.”

“Not an issue.” Roda half mumbled into the back of his head, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “What are friends for?”

Alex laughed darkly, the quiet sound muffled further by the coarse fabric of Roda’s waistcoat. “I assume you mean bad days.” Roda gave a non-committal, rubbing between Alex’s shoulders. She wasn’t quite sure what the right thing to say was. “There wasn’t anyone else I could go to…”

The statement was either insulting or flattering. Roda took it to mean that Alex trusted her, at least, and decided she didn’t care whether he’d been her first choice or her five hundredth. “Well I’m glad to be of assistance.” Roda lessened her tight grip on Alex’s shoulders, giving him space to move, if he wanted to. He kept his head down, almost uncharacteristically meek, and Roda reached around him to shut the TARDIS door, the console room lights flickering on at a soft, orange-red hue. She wished there was a sofa in the room; the only seat was the captain’s chair and Roda knew from experience that to fit two people on that at one time was a tricky and somewhat intimate process. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I…”

Alex choked, took a deep breath, buried his face properly in Roda’s scarred shoulder, and composed himself. Roda didn’t give him a chance to finish. He seemed so small… Not helpless, of course, he was a Time Lord, but in need of it anyway.

“If you don’t want to talk that’s alright too.” There was a long pause. The two Time Lords stood still, both on unsure ground, both apparently worried for different reasons. Roda longed to ask what had happened, who had hurt Alex, if he was okay, but she knew it would be stupid, and insulting. Instead, when Alex pulled back and smoothed down his shirt collar Roda took one look at the expression on his face and asked: “Do you want to go somewhere private?”

Roda still wasn’t sure how it happened. One minute she and Alex were talking and the next, they were kissing.

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. In fact, it was incredibly pleasant, if something of a surprise. Roda found herself wondering, briefly, if Jack had ever given Alex any other advice about something other than kissing, because it was obvious that he had taught him this. Alex’s mouth felt almost familiar against hers while still being new, exciting, and slightly desperate. Alex was hurting, Roda hadn’t realised how much until now, even if he wouldn’t admit to anything more than the cryptic message on the hypercube an hour earlier. Roda knew that she shouldn’t take advantage but the Seeker was an adult now, and could more than take care of himself. If he wanted to pull back then, well, Roda would let him. In fact she expected him to.

But he didn’t and tentatively, taking things quite a bit more slowly than she usually did, Roda came back into herself and reached for the small of Alex’s back. There were lots of ways to take your mind off the pain and this was certainly one of them. She’d done the same for her own pain before. Whatever Alex’s was, she didn’t need to know. Maybe this would just be kissing, maybe it would be more. Roda turned on her side of the library sofa that she had shepherded Alex to, leaning into him and drawing out the kiss as she ran her hands up over his slender spine, under his pirate-like coat (it was badly singed on one shoulder, and that told a story all of its own), and waited for him to push her away. He didn’t, his brow knitted in a frown, and an expression on his face that suggested he just wanted to lose himself for the moment.

“Are you-?”

“Yes, Roda…”

Roda obliged. Alex wasn’t unattractive and she hadn’t done anything like this with a Time Lord since before the war. She supposed she was Alex’s ‘first’ in a way, and then quickly supposed that now was not the time to giggle. A few seconds passed of gentle, curious kissing before Alex’s hands found the back of Roda’s neck, her shoulders, thumb rolling down to pass briefly over her brand before his fingers tightened against her arms and their bodies pressed together as much as their mouths. Roda found herself within minutes half horizontal, leaning over Alex, who wore a look that was both inquisitive and mercifully less broken. Good. Roda smiled, relaxing at last, and broke away to press a kiss to his jaw, his collarbone…

The TARDIS lights dimmed. Convenient. She usually was. Roda half wondered if she was supposed to hang a sock on the door before Alex’s hands started to distract her and she began to return the favour. They both picked up speed and confidence as Alex discovered that Roda’s stomach was ticklish – where her shirt had rolled up – but the scars on her shoulder ached, and Roda worked out that Alex was as susceptible to a little bit of biting as Jack had always been.

Maybe it was a Time Lord thing, a difficulty in sticking to what people might call ‘vanilla’. Or perhaps hardship was the cause. There was pain in Alex’s eyes, but also a sort of openness, a willingness to let somebody in that he didn’t think would hurt him. Roda was glad he trusted her to be his ‘somebody’.

Roda was definitely thinking too much.

“And you’ve-?”

“Yes.”

He was an adult. Rassilon, Roda supposed she was just realising that now. What exactly that said, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to be either, her mind in other places. Like the hands on the catch of her bra. Alex moved, suddenly, and the sofa almost toppled over, and Roda choked back a noise half amused and half impatient as Alex caught them both – hadn’t he mentioned something about joining the circus? – and landed on top of Roda, their bodies pressed even more tightly together. One of Alex’s knees landed between Roda’s thighs and they both paused, panting. A second later, Alex reached for the tails of Roda’s shirt, pulling it over her head, and Roda’s fingers slid blindly to the buckle of his belt and the zipper on his trousers.

They nearly fell off the sofa twice before they were both fully undressed and catching their breath. Roda wasted no more time taking in the sight in front of her, certain that the last thing Alex needed was judgement and really, if things continued the way they were, she’d get to know this newer body of his soon enough. Alex, too, remained silent bar a few appreciative noises, looking a bit more like himself already and a lot less like a broken thing. Roda stopped worrying about what ‘this’ would mean by tomorrow; one look at Alex was all it took to know neither of them would expect any more or any less, and were living in the moment. In a way, that was something they both had in common, for tonight.

Alex was still leaning over Roda, who rolled her hips with a smile and pressed her lips to the side of Alex’s neck, murmuring seductively in Gallifreyan. Alex met Roda’s eyes as he started to move, and Roda’s hands moved to his hips as he mouthed a single, telling word…

***

The sofa had never been a particularly good bed, but Roda had fallen asleep on it so many times that it only took a few seconds of groping underneath it to find a comfortable-enough cotton blanket. It echoed as she flapped it open and shuffled to her side of the sofa, offering the Seeker an open arm to curl up against and pulled the cardinal red sheet over them both. After a moment’s pause the comfort was accepted, and the Seeker rested his head on the crook of Roda’s arm with a faintly satisfied expression apparently trying to break past the rather solemn one he’d began the night with. Roda kissed his forehead once, before stretching out her legs and properly untangling them from his.

“Well, Seeker, that was pleasant.”

The Seeker snorted, and closed his eyes. “That’s one way to make a guy feel special. Pleasant.”

Roda smacked the back of his head with a flick of her wrist and tucked her chin atop his head. “More than pleasant. How about that?”

“It’ll do.” It was funny, but it struck Roda that no matter how hard he tried not to let it happen, there were elements of the Master in the Seeker. Good elements, mind you. His confidence, if waning tonight, was better placed and his determination hadn’t so far been applied to universal domination or pulling the legs off insects. “So, how do I compare?”

“Huh?”

“To Jack?”

“Oh,” Roda paused, and chuckled loudly, running a hand over her face and pulling hair and red fluff from feathers off her face, “You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Isn’t that what guys ask?” The Seeker laughed. “Besides I must confess to a certain curiosity - we've never shared a lover before." A beat. "Sorry, this is coming out all wrong. Told you I'm no good at this...”

Roda paused again, and after a moment’s thought poked the Seeker in the side. “I don’t think I could, anyway. I mean,” Roda’s fingertips danced back up and over the Seeker’s bare chest slowly, “Wow.” She winked, and stuck out her tongue as her hand withdrew, and the Seeker shot her a reproachful look. “You should visit more often.”

The Seeker hummed, his eyes dropping ever so slightly once more. Roda tightened her embrace around his shoulders and lowered her voice. “So. Time screwing you over? Wanna talk about it?”

“Yes and no…” The Seeker played with a stray feather in his line of sight and bit his bottom lip. Roda raised an eyebrow, gesturing with her free hand. “It’s just…” The Seeker took a deep breath, and launched in at the deep end. “I could do it, Roda. Fairly easily too - after all, Dad invented a paradox machine, the theory is all there ready to be used. That's the worst part.”

“Do…?”

“Time Lords. We’re supposed to be so all-powerful,” the Seeker clarified, his face serious. Roda nodded; she’d heard the same, back in the Academy. In many ways the Master and the Doctor, and herself, though renegades, still lived by some similar ideals. "I was always taught that I was... different. Powerful. That anything I wanted was just there at my fingertips... My father wanted me to take it, the Doctor was always worrying that I would. Just like Al-" He caught himself just in time, and Roda rubbed his shoulder caringly. “…She said. But what then?” The Seeker shrugged, burying his face in Roda’s collarbone again. “And sometimes... oh sometimes I know exactly why Dad decided to do whatever the hell he liked.” There were a lot of things Roda could have said but she kept her mouth shut. She trusted the Seeker. “The power we have is very real. But the freedom to use it? That is only an illusion. It-“

“Trust me. I know.” The Seeker looked Roda in the eyes, craning his neck. Roda was certain the bitterness in her voice was easy enough to read. She’d had plans of her own, once. Plans for a life. Trying to follow those plans had gotten her into centuries of trouble that still followed her today, even if she had learned her lesson early on. “The first time I met Jack, he was a Time Agent.” Alex looked surprised, but that was a story for another day. “And the first time I was flagged by the Shadow Proclamation, I just thought – with a flick of my wrist, a quick trip in the TARDIS, none of these people would give a damn what I did.”

“I’ve done that. Dealt with the paparazzi… Got very close to- Things I shouldn't have done.”

“Well they were never much of an issue for me.” Roda laughed. “Just as well I guess. But you know what I mean, right? They wouldn’t know me if I just tweaked things a little. And they didn’t know me.” Her cheeks flushed, “I felt, who were they to judge me? I’m a Time Lord, and they’re just-“

“Just as important. Except, sort of… Not.”

“Exactly.” Roda nodded. “I never liked the way Gallifrey was ruled in my time but I still felt entitled… Ras- The Lord President, he thought I’d go into politics too; plenty of Time Lords would have killed for a ‘casual internship’ under the founder of Time Lord society. People said I’d been handed a life on a silver plate when my father… In a way I had been, but at the cost of being time’s bitch.” It was Roda’s turn to trail off and with a familiarity he hadn’t had an hour ago, the Seeker put a hand on her knee. “That was my idea of a personal hell, too.”

“All my life, I've told I'm entitled.” The Seeker sighed. “I mean, in a way, they’re right. So were you. We can do anything. I learned that quickly enough.” He looked at the roof. “But when I was a kid, the Doctor told me that I had to look after time. Sure, I can bend the universe to my will but lately I’ve realised it’s the other way around. You told me when Rassilon made us Time Lords, it wasn’t always meant for everyone, right?” Roda nodded. “It was meant for the nobility, and then gradually, that changed. Time Lords started to think they were all important. But ‘Lord’ is the wrong word. We’re servants. Servants of time.” When Roda next nuzzled into the Seeker’s side it was to reassure them both.

“We’re not meant to exist outside of time because without being on our master’s leash, we feel ill. Wrong. All the old laws, they taught us to respect and fear what our upbringing told us was our birth right.” The Seeker paused. "Poor choice of words, but you know what I mean. It's just... I've known all this in the abstract, and following the rules has always been a choice - a pre-emptive choice. I've never... felt the _force_ of time before. Felt it literally weigh me down, and known just how great a force would be needed to-" He stopped himself, eyes lost. "I felt my power, felt it right into my very core... And I knew I couldn't use it, no matter how much I wanted to. No matter how much it hurt to... step away."

She could hear the strain in his words, sense the emotions that were obviously still raw and just below the surface. But when he turned to her, he studied her earnestly, his eyes clear.

"I think that's why it had to be you. I can't imagine anyone else would even begin to understand."

“Try working for time for over a thousand years.”

“I just feel like a puppet. A highly intelligent, powerful… Rag doll.” The Seeker sighed, and smiled. “Bit of a mood kill, huh?”

“Nah.” Roda shrugged in turn, “You should hear Jack’s pillow talk.”

“I’m not sure if I want to.”

“Probably wise.” Roda smiled, and took a deep breath. “You’re right, though. Non-interference policy, Celestial Intervention Agency, Oubliette of Eternity… It’s all in there to protect time if we screw up. There was never anything to protect us in reverse.” Roda wrinkled her nose. “You’re a bit more responsible about it than I ever was.”

“But we’re not that different.” Roda lifted her head to look at the Seeker more closely. “No, hear me out. I mean, salt and pepper about a lot of things, I get that, but neither of our lives have gone the way we, or anyone else, planned. We both got screwed over one way or another. You’ve rebuilt your life from scratch, but…”

“It’s taken me this long.”

“Exactly. I have so many plans… I don’t have time to be so helpless.”

“You learn to work with it.” Roda rubbed the Seeker’s shoulder. “Find the cracks and the hiding places. Little ways to get away from the pain and servitude for a bit. And then with practice, you make the cracks bigger and bigger and hope for the best. And you never let anybody, be they one person or a whole universe, tell you what to do.”

The two Time Lords slipped into silence once more, eyes closed and breathing heavy. Neither one of them wanted to dwell on their own mortality. The sex, the letting go, and the talk… It had been good for them both. Eventually, though, the Seeker opened one eye and squeezed Roda’s leg. She looked down at him.

“You called me Seeker,” the Seeker smirked.

“So I did.”

Roda hadn’t even noticed, but the Seeker – Alex – had a point. It was funny how sex could do that, change how you saw somebody; the same, of course, had happened after Roda’s friends-with-benefits relationship with Jack. She’d even been thinking of him the way he wanted to be seen, instead of as the child she’d met on the Valiant, and the son of an enemy. It seemed to make things between them smoother, too. And of course, there was another matter.

“You called me Roda. Not Redjay. My friends call me Roda.”

“So they do.” Of course he’d worked it out before she had. As it sunk Roda blinked, then shook her head fondly. “So what do friends-with-benefits call you?”

Roda laughed, thumping the Seeker in the side before sliding out from underneath the Time Lord to straddle his lap, her arms on either side of his shoulders. “Jack calls me Ro-Ro from time to time.”

“Ro-Ro?”

“I’ve had worse. He started it to wind me up.” The Seeker raised an eyebrow and Roda chuckled, making herself comfortable before leaning in, her mouth mere inches from the Seeker’s ear. He tensed up, just for an instant, and Roda stroked her hands down the side of his neck to rest on his collarbone. “So…”

The Seeker smirked. “So?”

“So.” Roda shrugged playfully. “Do I get the guided tour of your place - I mean planet - now?”


	2. The Cosmic Kids. Epilogue. (by elisi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happened next. Wraps things up - after a fashion.

The pillow talk was interrupted by a faint voice calling "Roda?" 

Roda and the Seeker looked at each other, before glancing around at the scattered clothing strewn around the room and their own nakedness. The Seeker bit his lip, trying to stop from laughing.

"I'll go," he finally said. "You know what he'll be like, and there's no need for you to have to deal with that on top of everything I've already thrown at you."

Roda reached up, hand on his cheek, searching his face, clearly making sure that he was sufficiently recovered... After all, he _had_ been rather a mess when she'd answered his call. Leaning into the touch he felt the double pulse like a lifeline ( _the same, we are the same, time and eternity etched into our souls_ ) and drew a deep breath. (It had been the right call, far more so than he'd suspected.)

"I'm fine, trust me."

Rooting around amongst the clothing he managed to locate his trousers, noting with a wince the dirt and the creases... The last 24 hours- he would not have worn his best trousers if he'd known what had been in store. (And his coat. His beautiful coat, ruined. How could he lose so many things in a single day?) Walking down the calming red corridors towards the control room, he remembered that his only plans had been a nice book in front of the fireplace. That seemed forever ago.

The Doctor stared at him with surprise (although given the fact that Roda was parked in his courtyard, it wasn't exactly illogical to find him here) and he could see the Doctor reaching the same conclusion, then tilting his head, as the Seeker leaned against the wall, feeling the soft hum against his skin and waiting.

"Sorry, but... Why-"

The Doctor's hand fluttered, and the Seeker tried to force his emotions down.

"I needed someone. Roda was kind enough to answer."

The surprise gave way to concern.

"Seeker, you know you can always-"

"Yes, but I don't want to sleep with you," he cut in, and the Doctor's mouth turned into a perfect o, as the semi-nudity registered properly.

"I- I'll come back later," he said finally, obviously discomforted, and the Seeker tilted his head.

"No worries - it doesn't bother _me_ that you're here. But then that part of my education was overseen by Jack, as I'm sure you recall. Next time - presuming there is a next time - I'll put up a balloon if you want?"

He saw the flinch - miniscule though it was - and told himself that he was too old to still try to score points this way. Although the mention of Jack’s name reminded him that he would have to check up on Jack at some point. Of course Jack might just turn up looking for some TLC too. Or maybe he was just out there getting blind drunk... He wasn’t sure where Jack was in his timeline, so wasn’t sure where he’d go. Finding him might be difficult.

Looking away from the Doctor, the Seeker tiredly rubbed his face. If only he hadn't answered Jack's call, he'd have avoided tonight's heartache - avoided blood on his hands, avoided this new, unwanted feeling of helplessness. Yet he knew that if he hadn't, things would undoubtedly have turned out far worse. Not for him personally, but overall. And what was his own pain compared to that?

"Seeker?" Belatedly he realised that the Doctor had been trying to get his attention.

"What? Sorry, it's been... A long day. Evening. Thing." He raised his hand in a vague gesture. "If you need Roda, I'll fetch her for you. She might be dressed by now."

The Doctor studied him silently for a long moment, and the Seeker wondered just how long it'd be before his father knew. The Doctor wouldn't say anything (it was _complicated_ , and the Doctor - by now - knew better than to interfere), but his father... For a split-second he recalled his first ever memory of Roda, beaten and subjugated, and shuddered to the very marrow of his bones. What was he doing feeling sorry for himself? He was the lucky one...

"Just- tell her I'll be in touch," the Doctor said, before rapidly exiting, and the Seeker slowly made his way back to Roda, almost collapsing back into her arms. It would seem that the events were finally catching up with him... He’d forgotten how _exhausting_ emotions were. 

“Seeker?” she asked, a frown digging into her brow as he struggled out of his trousers and started to make an attempt at undressing her again (he wanted to get back to where they’d been at before, that quiet calm and closeness). “How did it go?”

He shrugged.

“Oh, he very eloquently said nothing at all. And quite frankly I don’t care what he thinks. I just realised that I’ve not slept in... far too long, and I’m worn out. There was running - far too much running, I _hate_ running; if you have to run, it means you’ve not planned properly.” 

Managing to get her shirt off, as she’d gone still listening, he started on her blue-stained trousers (she’d made a right mess of them, all for his sake... something caught in his throat at the thought of that), even as he kept talking.

“And then there was the point when being a Time Lord translated into being judge, jury and executioner. And that was the easy part, comparatively...”

He let the sentence hang, as he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her cool skin against his own and the soothing thrum of four hearts beating in unison, the TARDIS surrounding them, and his own planet beneath them - grounding them, grounding _him_. 

(Everything felt _right_ ; his internal equilibrium slowly returning, like the tide coming in. _Time, time, time_... Everything that was, everything there would be - he let it wash over him, as he gently reached out and touched the very edge of Roda’s mind; that shared, fundamental awareness the final touching stone in allowing his mind to let go, as he with a sigh sank back into the sofa, pulling her with him.)

Roda, sensing that he was slipping out of consciousness, kissed him on the forehead, and curled up with her head on his chest. 

She didn’t sleep for a long time, however - her mind ticking over, restless. Somehow she would have to work out what this meant. The Master’s son - all grown up, all his own - and he had fled into _her_ arms. Tracing patterns on his gently rising chest as he slept the deep, senseless sleep of pure exhaustion, she marvelled at the level of trust he was placing in her. Sex was one thing, but _sleep_... 

Smiling, she finally closed her eyes.

 _Sleeping_ together. 

How very apt.

~fin~


	3. By the Fireside (by elisi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the Master found out.

The light from the large fireplace danced across the walls and ceiling of the circular sitting room, shadows flickering in the dark recesses as orange flames lent their hue to every surface, making the scarlet sheets seem as if they were fashioned from liquid rubies. 

Roda’s head on his chest, his arm around her shoulder, the Seeker was leisurely relating the story of how he and Jack had hunted down and killed the large beast whose pelt was spread out before the hearth. It had made a far more comfortable base for love making than the couch they’d used their first time, and Roda had stroked it appreciatively, before wondering out loud just where it had come from - its size was truly impressive.

They were sitting with their backs against the largest of the sofas that formed a semi-circled around the fireplace, curled up underneath the silk sheets, the fur rug beneath them, and the whole cosmos reduced to their own little amber world, the flames as bright as the sky outside before the suns had set - which was probably why neither of them registered the presence of another Time Lord before he was halfway across the room, already speaking.

“Seeker, I was going ask you-”

A moment of deep silence, only broken by the crackle of the fire, as he took in the scene. The Seeker could feel Roda tense, and felt sure she was nearly baring her teeth - her innate fight or flight response would have overactivated, and he tightened his hold imperceptively. 

( _Trust me. I’ve got this._ ) 

His father’s face, however, was a picture. Not a very nice picture, but a picture nonetheless. The Seeker watched it closely, as he wanted to remember it and possibly extract it later to show Jack. He’d like that. A few drinks... It could be the making of a stellar night. 

Finally his father found his voice.

“What the _hell_?”

The Seeker smiled lazily, caressing a stray feather.

“I know... Rassilon’s ward takes Renegade’s son as her lover. Shocking - especially considering that my mother was human, never mind the age difference. Shame Gallifrey is gone, this could have had them gossiping for years.”

And it would seem he had actually rendered his father speechless - this was almost better than Christmas. 

(If he was honest, he was also pleased to have found yet another item to add to his list of 'Ways In Which I Have Screwed Over My Father’s Expectations'... Idly he wondered how long it'd take before his father got the message. Maybe Roda would help in this regard - they were both of them independent and intransigent to a degree most people found off-putting. Maybe his father would see the connection?)

Or maybe not.

"Seeker..." he began through clenched teeth, looking fit to burst. 

"Yes, father?" he replied, keeping his voice as light as he could, but letting his smile drop abruptly as the Master continued unaffected.

"I don't know what game this is-"

"Not a game," the Seeker interrupted, letting his anger show through. "If you don't approve of my life choices, I'd suggest you leave my planet."

They locked eyes for a long moment, a silent battle of wills, then his father made a dismissive noise and shrugged.

"Well... Far be it from me to stand in the way of something as commendable as _love_. I hope you will be very happy together."

His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but it was undercut rather effectively by a snort of disbelief from Roda.

Trying to stop from laughing, the Seeker watched his father's face cloud over once more, but when he replied he tried to cram as much quiet threat as he could into the words, the cold smile on his face hopefully serving as a warning too.

"Love is the last thing on my mind. But this is... a very pleasant diversion, and I would certainly rate Roda as one of my dearest friends now. Can I help you by the way, or will you see yourself out?" 

The glow from the flames seemed to light his father's eyes as his attention abruptly fastened on Roda, and the Seeker could feel his hearts sink.

"Well played Redjay. Well played. I think I might be impressed."

Her pulse was by now doing a tap dance, and he could feel her unease like a physical thing, but to the Seeker's relief Roda's response was tightly controlled.

"Don't ever measure me with your yard stick, Master - I would _never_ use your son as a pawn."

The past hung between them, dark and bloodstained, and the Seeker gritted his teeth. He wasn't doing this, not ever again.

"Dad - I am... _beyond_ insulted that you think I could ever be anyone's puppet, and I will _not_ be fought over. I am seriously advising you to leave before you say something you will regret."

His father's eyes narrowed, and he was clearly about to speak when the Seeker decided cut in again, lifting the hand that wasn't holding Roda in place (this juggling of disparate elements was obviously like riding a bicycle - once learned, you could get right back into it in less than a heartsbeat. It was still exhausting though).

"And if you say 'This isn't over yet' to her, I _swear_ I will knock you out cold!"

A smile - small, but significant - appeared on his father's face, and he nodded once.

"As you wish, son."

With a flourish he turned on his heel and was very careful to close the door soundlessly behind him. The Seeker could feel Roda shiver, and wrapped both arms around her, kissing her cheek. 

"Sorry about my parentage. I like to think that I can do anything, but fixing _him_ will probably always be beyond me..."

Seeing that she was still not relaxing at all, he carefully turned her face towards him.

"Hey, listen. Don't worry. It's been like this since the day I was born - everyone I love seems to hate each other. And they all know the drill by now - I do _not_ want anyone hurt. He'll huff and puff for a while, but he doesn't want to antagonise me..." 

Eyes narrowing, he smiled a smile worthy of his father. "He did once. He and the Doctor both. Don't suppose Jack ever told you - no he wouldn't, he's good at keeping our secrets. It's so long ago now, I was only a kid, and they tried to punish me. _That_ backfired rather spectacularly, as all they did was make me more determined than ever to do my own thing, no matter what."

He tilted his head, pleased at the way her eyes were now glittering. "And why do I have a feeling that you know exactly what I mean?"

Reaching up, cradling his face, she studied him silently for a long moment, and he would have given his eyeteeth to know what was going through her head.

"Finish the story about the rug," she finally said, one of her feathers catching the firelight and gleaming like molten gold. 

He dipped his head.

"Your wish is my command, My Lady," he solemnly replied. 

(She was well named. As vivid and unconstrained as a bird... That she chose to land by him was something close to a miracle.)

Roda settled down to listen once more, far more apprehensive about possible consequences than her young lover - but his hair was the colour of fire and the sky, bright and vivid, like a reflection of his soul. And not for all the worlds did she want to dim that light.


	4. His Father's Son (by elisi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master and his son have a discussion about the Redjay. It doesn't go quite as the Master anticipated...

 

Despite the many ways in which human society had moved on during the 100+ years that separated the 21st and 22nd Century, there were still times when the political machinations the Master was currently indulging in gave him a distinct sense of deja-vu.

And then there were days when he was sharply reminded of all the ways in which his own life had changed...

Back then he’d not had a son who would waltz into his office in the brightest red coat the Master had ever seen and perch himself on the desk, studying him with eyes as keen and sharp as his own.

“We need to talk,” the Seeker said, and the Master leaned back in his chair.

“You know, I have guards out there to stop people just walking in from the street...”

The Seeker’s face split in a wide grin.

“I _saw_! It’s very cute. Does it create the desired effect?”

“Pretty much. Didn’t give you any grief, did they?”

The Seeker raised an offended eyebrow.

“I should think I am capable of walking through a handful of humans without being seen, father. And I can't help noticing that you are derailing the conversation before we've even started it.”

Sighing, the Master tilted his head.

“Very well. I... presume you've come to talk about the Redjay.”

“That would be correct, yes.”

The Seeker’s blue eyes were cool and considered, and really, there was no way of getting around it. Accidentally finding his only, beloved son in the arms of a sworn adversary had caused a deep and significant shock, as well as a quiet fury which had yet to blossom into anything solid, but there was ample time for that.

Right now, however, there was the business of trying to find out why this extraordinary liaison had taken place in the first place... He sat forward, looked up at the boy - all cheekbones and sharp lines in his red coat. It was a new coat, he was sure, and the colour might be a subtle message all on its own. _Damn_ that woman. He cleared his throat, trying to put on his most reasonable face.

“So - here's the thing. I don't see our Redjay in... _ages_. More than a century. And when I _do_ stumble upon her she's shacked up with you, which - I must admit - I wasn’t expecting. However..." His eyes narrowed, "I seem to remember that she had some trouble with You Know Who which you helped her with. Am I correct in presuming that we have a case of time discrepancies, and this is all rather recent for you?”

There was a pause, as the Seeker studied him in silence, the cogs in his brain obviously ticking over rapidly. When he finally spoke there was more than a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“You think... You think she's sleeping with me out of gratitude for helping save her life?”

The Master shrugged, aiming for a smile and failing.

“Well it’s either that or a surprisingly wily plan to get back at me through the person I love the most. But she protested so very valiantly against the very idea - plus that’s never been her MO, she’s too... principled for that kinda thing - well, I must admit I ran out of ideas.”

As he spoke, however, the Seeker had been slowly shaking his head

“I... can't begin to say how wrong you are. But since you're curious... Yes, that incident is fairly recent, and it's probably what helped earn her trust.”

Another pause, as the Master waited for him to continue, and then impatiently broke the silence himself.

“Well go on then... why _is_ she sleeping with you? I’m presuming there’s a reason and she didn’t just fall through the door, naked, and into your arms.”

The Seeker casually brushed his hair off his forehead, making sure that the light was as flattering as possible, smugness and pure challenge radiating from his eyes. “Because I'm hot?”

 _Kids_. The lad was more than two hundred now, and still he revelled in winding up his father. The Master took a deep breath, and forced his temper under control. They were _not_ having another round of _that_ particular argument.

“ _Apart_ from that.”

This time he waited, and the Seeker sighed in a mock-defeat which his eyes belied.

“Fine, if you're that curious - _I_ came to _her_. And she was kind enough to accept my proposal. That's all you're getting.”

He had not been expecting this. The Seeker’s face was a perfect blank, and he wondered whether there was some kind of story behind the development - or whether the Seeker had just decided that he’d like to try sex with another Time Lord. Either alternative was as likely as the other.

He didn’t get any further in his musings however, as the Seeker was clearly keen to move on.

“Listen - why it started isn’t important. It did, and it’s probably going to continue, because it’s very pleasant to say the least. But there is one problem - _you_.”

Part of him wanted to protest, but a lie that big and obvious was impossible for even him - in this instance at least he cared _very much_ where his son bedded. The Redjay - infuriating, intransigent, a relic from a lost world and _refusing_ to ever bend to his will... The idea of _his son_ sharing _any_ kind of intimacy with her was unpalatable to him in ways he couldn't even begin to describe. If he was honest he had been half-relieved when she'd started working for Torchwood and subsequently fell of his radar. She and the Freak made a good couplet of impossible things.

Looking at the Seeker he grimaced, trying his best to appear casual.

“So, what is this - you’re going to warn me off going after her? That’s very gallant of you, especially considering how it’s only a casual thing...”

The Seeker smiled, a smile that caught the Master unawares and suddenly made his breath hitch.

“You’re on the right track, except I _know_ you. You’re perfectly capable of being subtle when you want to - if, say, a strange artifact just happened to fall through the rift and injure her, then I am certain no one would ever be able to trace it back to you. So I’ve decided on a slightly different cause of action: Whatever befalls her, befalls you. Very Biblical, actually. Funny that, I don't think I've ever been Biblical before.”

Of all the ridiculous ideas the youngster had thought up! The Master tried his best not to sneer - it wouldn’t do to talk down to the boy. But still.

“Right then... because _you_ happen to be sleeping with her, _I_ become responsible for her welfare? And you say you are not infatuated...”

Sitting up a little straighter, the smile faded from the Seeker’s face with an abruptness that would have been alarming in anyone else.

“I'm not making you 'responsible' for her because I'm sleeping with her. I'm making you responsible because she is more terrified of _you_ than her own death. I _remember_ what you did back then, during The Year That Never Was, and that's obviously only a fraction - she's not going to share, and I don't want to know. But I want it to _end_. And the only way it's going to end, is for you to back off. So to ensure that, I thought up this little arrangement. Very simply I don't want her to be worse off because of me.”

With dawning horror the Master realised that the boy was deathly serious.

“But... the woman is a complete danger magnet. _Plus_ she works for Torchwood - it's only a question of time before she gets herself killed! Their average life expectancy is less than a Sontaran’s.”

The Seeker’s face betrayed no emotion. “Well if it came to that, I suppose I'd have to kill you too.”

“Now don't be stupid,” the Master replied, beginning to get rather bothered by the turn of the conversation.

But the Seeker merely readopted that delightfully dark smile. (Well, it would be delightful if it wasn’t directed at _him_.)

“Daddy dearest, you're an evil psychotic megalomaniac. Killing you would be doing the universe a favour.”

The Master shook his head, feeling oddly shaken. Part of him couldn’t believe that he was considering taking this seriously, and yet... The look on the boy’s face made warning bells ring in places that he knew better than to ignore.

“You wouldn't...”

His son held his eyes, the challenge unmistakable.

“Wouldn't I?”

For the longest moment they held each other’s eyes, before eventually the Seeker tilted his head, features softening.

“Besides, there are only four of us. Seems a shame to waste so much effort on in-fighting. Plus...”

He hesitated, biting his lip, and the Master couldn’t help himself from prompting.

“Plus?”

“Well, Roda... You like her.”

Wondering whether the kid had completely lost his marbles, he shook his head, incredulous.

“I can assure you-”

But the Seeker cut him off.

”Listen old man. The Doctor and I - we love you. We're stupid for doing so, but we do; no need to pretend we don't. But Roda... Roda really, _really_ hates your guts. She would flay you alive without a second's remorse, and you...”

A beat as he leant in, studying his father's face with an unnerving combination of concentration and quiet triumph.

“... _like_ that.”

Eternities seemed to pass as the words sank in, and when the Master finally found his voice, he wasn’t quite capable of keeping it under control.

_”Son...”_

Taking a deep breath, he studied the wonder in front of him with undiluted delight and appreciation. _His_ son. His son to the very marrow of his bones.

“...does your little girfriend know just what manner of man she is getting involved with?”

The Seeker lazily swung his feet onto the floor and stood up.

“She is neither little, nor my girlfriend. And what she knows or doesn’t know about me... We’ll that’s none of your business. Which is what all of this has been about really. Keep your nose to yourself. In return I shall get out of your hair and leave you to your machinations. Try not to kill anyone? I know it’s politics, but murder is messy and leaves a trail - besides, humans are so _very_ corruptible... Get your kicks elsewhere.”

Leaning forward on the desk, the Master studied him.

"Seriously, you'll just... leave?"

The Seeker shrugged. "I have actual work to do, plus I'm sure the Doctor will show up if you get too noisy. And the stars forbid _I_ should come between The Enmity of Ages."

Strolling across to the door he put his hand on the handle, then turned to shoot his father a bright smile - tall, sharp and perfectly self-assured, his hair like a polished flame falling over his forehead - and the Master could not for all the worlds have denied him anything at all.

After the door had closed, he sat for a long while in silence, carefully turning over the new developments over in his mind.

Finally a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He had to keep the Redjay safe? Well, he would... _surprise_ her yet. The future was literally brimming with possibilities...

Not the End


	5. Impasse (by luckweaver)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> /ˈimˌpas/. A situation in which no progress is possible, esp. because of disagreement; a deadlock: "the current political impasse".

As far as Rodageitmososa was concerned, her week had finally gone from bad to worst. It had started subtly enough, but after over a thousand years of travelling, Roda had learned that the feeling that someone was watching you was usually more than just a feeling. She’d tried to ignore it; in fact, she had ignored it for most of the week, putting up with the teasing in the Hub when she’d first brought it up with barely a scowl. But by the time that Monday came about the coincidences had stacked up into a warning, and a very good reason for the Redjay’s hackles to rise. Paranoia, she had decided centuries ago, wasn’t paranoia when people really were out to get you.

Which still didn’t explain exactly what was going on. It had all started with a newspaper. A couple of sheets of paper still hot from the press that came through the Cardiff rift in alarmingly mint condition. It was just as well that Jack had been the first to find it, and put it aside to show Roda, before Ianto had diligently sorted it into the Archives. Torchwood usually made a point of not foreshadowing their own timeline but the headline had caught Jack’s eye… He probably should have known better than to read on, but when he’d called Roda into his office and planted it in her lap with a forced and anxious grin on his face, she’d been glad that he had. 

Roda dropped the rolled up newspaper in her hands open onto the Master’s desk, smoothing it out with slim, woad-stained fingertips and tapping the centre headline aggressively. The Master leaned over, resting his chin on clasped hands and reading aloud.

“Master Hunter Traps Rare Red Bird.”

“Do you really have nothing better to do?”

“Curiosity kills the birds too, you know.”

Roda snorted, reaching around to her waistband with one hand and placing the sleek, carved pistol in the back of her belt onto the desk under the other. Squaring her hands against the solid wood, she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. She took a deep breath, taking care to keep her voice steady.

“Why the hell are you bothering with me?”

“Redjay, I ask myself that question at least once a week…”

The Master, unfortunately, knew exactly which buttons to press where she was concerned. It was a mutual thing that would probably have been almost intimate if it wasn’t for Bandraginus Five and their mutual hatred for each other. Clearly, he’d wanted her attention; what unnerved her was the lack of an explanation. There’d been nothing particularly helpful in the newspaper article accompanying the heavy handed message except for a date – 14th November, 2112 – and a brief biography of said Master Hunter’s political career (continued on page 4).

Harold Saxon, the newspaper explained, was running for Prime Minister of the United Kingdom once again. A distant relation of the last Prime Minister, and an avid game hunter to boot, the candidate was winning votes with his disarming, familiar smile. His apparent illegitimacy also made for a tidy bit of gossip; something people never seemed to grow bored of. He was already a favourite to win, as his great great great grandfather had been; most papers reported high odds, and high hopes. It had taken every inch of Roda’s willpower not to jump straight in and meddle.

Of course, she’d made that mistake too many times before, and even without the Time Lords around to hold her to account she wasn’t about to willingly make it again. Instead, she’d made an appointment, and kept to it; there’d been a phone number for his campaign offices in the paper as well. Granted, Roda hadn’t told the Seeker she was answering the summons. There was no need to alarm him unduly, especially after his threats when the Master had walked in on them both the other day. She was certain the Master had enough intelligence not to try and pull another trick like he had back in 2008, especially if the Doctor was keeping his promise by keeping an eye on him.

Of course there were exceptions, people, few and far between, who she trusted irrevocably. Robin, Will, Wick, Jack, his team, most of the Doctor’s regenerations, a couple of long-suffering contacts from the past (trusted as far as they could be thrown, admittedly) and of course, the Seeker. In the past week or so he had more than proved his worth, both as a friend and as a lover. He got her, too; holding her in place when the Master had walked in, running to her arms when he needed help despite what his family might think…

The problem was that even if the Seeker had managed to hold off the Master last week, that didn’t mean he would always be able to, or that Roda would want him to. The Master had never been able to forgive Roda for humiliating him more than half a century ago. After the Valiant, their hostility had grown to an even more personal level and as Roda had convinced Jack before taking the day off to pay her rival a visit, it was something they had to work through on their own.

Not that she was always right; far from it. If being exiled for high treason wasn’t enough proof, there was the time the Doctor had dug her out of her own grave, or the rivalry she’d sparked with the Master on Bandraginus Five, or the fact that she’d let herself fall head over heels for her commanding officer in the middle of the Time War. Roda made no attempt to hide her failures and wore them like medals. If she screwed up she wouldn’t always be the first to admit it, but admit it she would. 

“I just wanted to get your attention.” The Master interrupted Roda’s thoughts, and she glanced up at his face once more. “I was considering burning down Nottingham…” The Master tipped his head back again, spreading his palms in front of his chest as Roda bared her teeth and twitched with the effort of reining in her temper. “You should be grateful I found this method far more… poetic.” Roda wrinkled her nose and curled her fists into crossed arms, taking her gun with her. She’d made her point. “I have no interest in shooting you.”

“And I’m a right-wing Tory royalist.” Roda snapped despite all her best efforts, back stiff and her eyebrow arched. “Pull the other one, Master, it’s got bells on it.”

“Say my name again,” The Master licked his lips and leaned in to study her, until his face was only inches from Roda’s. Both Time Lords held their ground with stubborn hatred and determination; Roda was glad he only shot her arms, shaking slightly, a passing glance and grin. “I dare you.”

“Don’t test me.”

Roda’s finger slipped around the trigger and, as if he was remembering some private joke, the Master’s grin widened. She kept it tucked neatly against her rolled up shirt sleeves, 

“You know me so well.”

Roda wasn’t sure if the Master’s mood had faltered or improved. He drew back, patting the desk once and after a couple of deep, calming breaths, Roda ran a hand through her hair. The Master tapped the table with his too-familiar usual four-beat rhythm, and Roda finally sunk into the chair clearly intended for visitors, planting her boots onto the table in one final act of one-upping.

The Master cleared his throat. Roda made it clear she was in no hurry to move, placing the gun on her lap, and the Master got to his feet and paced around her to lean on the back of her chair. Roda cricked her neck to follow him, smirking.

“And I’d almost think you don’t know me at all.”

The Master sucked in a clearly irritated breath. “I’ve been… tersely informed I should make an attempt to. Interestingly enough for someone on such a high horse,” He turned up his nose and Roda rolled her neck, studying the fabricated credentials that adorned his walls and biting her tongue, “I’ve also been informed that you wish to skin me alive.”

Roda winced. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

The Master began the drumbeat for a few more seconds, contemplatively, before spinning away and clicking the lock of his office door shut with barely a glance down the corridor, chuckling to himself. “Alexander seems to think I actually like your attention.” Roda froze in her seat as the Master slowly paced back across the room. “Though I think we know each other better than you think.”

“This I have to hear.”

“Really.” The Master grinned, perching on the edge of his desk and pushing his in box to one side. “Let me guess: just a few minutes ago you were thinking,” The Master tapped his thumb on his lip, coarsely putting on an accent similar to Roda’s. “What a coincidence, I don’t want to shoot you either, let’s have a chat over some arsenic?”

Roda’s grin-grimace was all teeth. “Aspirin, maybe.”

The Master pouted. “Some people are so difficult to please.”

“Did you invite me over to dance around and tell me you love me-“

“There’s an amusing misunderstanding-“

Both Time Lords interrupted each other. “Or was there a point to all this?” 

Roda crossed her ankles on the table, still beside the Master’s precarious seat, and fingered the gun absently. If only she could have brought her bow… then again, she was getting rusty with it, this regeneration. Too much time in the twenty-something centuries. She was losing her touch. Working for Torchwood, staying in one place and time for the most part, having lie-ins and drinking coffees with long names… She was almost missing the days of running for her live twice a week and breaking into vaults. 

Roda raised a hand, shaking her musings from her head and prompting the Master once more. “The Seeker said he’d spoken to you…?”

“Well, he is my son…”

“What’s your game?”

Roda snapped once more. The break from the status quo put her even more on edge than usual. The Master terrified her; she closed her eyes at night and Bandraginus Five still haunted her. But at least when he was trying to kill her she knew where she stood, which is more than she could often say of any of the Saxon family. This? This was just disorientating. She didn’t expect the Master to show his hand quickly, but it wasn’t often her led her in such abstract circles. Wasting time was not his modus operandi.

“I suppose ‘entertainment’ isn’t the answer you want to hear.”

The Master crossed his legs with a smug look. Roda simply raised an eyebrow, and the Master jerked his thumb towards the corner of the room, eager to re-establish the upper hand. Frowning, Roda tried to follow his gaze. And then she found it; a small black box in the corner of the room, with a winged A emblazoned on the side.

“CCTV. The Archangel Network has… upgraded in the last two centuries.” Roda reluctantly slipped the gun back into her belt while the Master drew his laser screwdriver from his chest pocket, and left it on the desk, lined up beside his pens. Roda’s feet slipped from the desk as the Master smirked. “And I’m certain you’ve met my delightful guards. I believe you’ll find it’s in your best interests to listen to my terms like a good little Time Lady.” 

“Terms…?” Roda raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“You asked if my son came to speak to me.” The Master folded his hands in his lap. “He did. He’s growing up to be quite the little manipulator, just like his father.” Though the Master’s smile was predominantly proud, there was also a certain agitation in his eyes. Roda was briefly put in mind of how Rassilon had always looked down on her, even when her grades were more than decent, and played absently with a stray few locks of her hair self-consciously. “Of course, we came to some agreement regarding your… general well-being.”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Narrowing her eyes, Roda rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, sighing. Her guard came down and she finally let the mildly business-minded side of her brain have a word in edgeways. The Master was telling the truth, somehow, she just knew that. She really was safe in this room, at least for now, and that was something that could be dragged out in her favour. Clearly the Seeker had intended as much… Roda remembered his stance on arguing friends, his emphasis on ‘closest friends’…

“You’re right. We do have something in common.”

“Oh?” The Master raised an eyebrow.

Roda straightened up, running a hand through her hair. “The Seeker.”

The Master’s eyes widened for just a second, and Roda fancied that she’d surprised him somehow. Surprised, or possibly angered; as the expression slipped away, it was replaced with one more vicious and less playful than she had seen since Bandraginus Five. Roda pushed herself to her feet, running one hand across her throat with a thoughtful hum and keeping her attention squarely on the Master.

“How long has it been since…?” She gestured vaguely with one open palm.

The Master smirked, though the glower barely dimmed. “Why, are you offering, or just working your way through the family?” He shook his head, mock-sighing. “Just because you’re the last doesn’t mean you should-“

“Since you walked in on us!” Roda bared her teeth, all but stamping one of her feet on the ground. “Rassilon’s balls,” The Master chuckled despite himself, “He came to me, alright? I wasn’t about to turn him away. I care about him, or is that so difficult for you to understand? Besides, if I’d left him to suffer you’d be calling me here to break my legs.” She paused, and took a deep breath, lowering her tone to a more neutral one and glancing at her feet. “I wouldn’t have done that, you know. Even to get back at you.”

The Master sniffed, his expression starting to tear. “Really. You’re just like the Doctor, Redjay. No care for the trouble your actions might cause. And besides.” He turned up his nose. “My son can take care of himself.”

“Oh, definitely.” Roda slowly grinned, unfolding her arms and beginning to pace. A leer found its way onto her face, and she would have been ashamed at herself if she hadn’t just found the metaphorical high ground with her hated rival once more. “He can look after himself very well. And he can look after me.” Roda tapped her bottom lip, the Master jumped to his feet, and though she knew she’d live to regret continuing, Roda did just that. “And then of course there’s Ja-“

“You should know your place…!”

The Master snarled. Feigning a look of confusing Roda looked left and right, then tilted her head, only taking a few steps backwards as the Master stalked ever closer, finger held out accusingly.

“At a forty degree angle, to the left of you…?” The Master choked on a splutter. “Or did you want the longitude and latitude? See, I’d have to go back to the TARDIS to get-“

“Your place should be under my heel!”

“Kinky.” Roda smirked. “What would your son say?”

“Oh you do not want to push me any further, Redjay…” The Master’s eyes narrowed, but a smile returned to his features; one that Roda really didn’t like. He reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand almost tenderly. “Perhaps Alex was right about you and I.” Roda opened her mouth to question him but the Master withdrew his hand, shaking his head sharply. “As to what he would say, well, if he wants a whore then I’ll buy him another one. I really cannot fathom his affection for his current one…”

“Rassilon and Omega, Master…!” Roda finally snapped, unfolding her arms to push the Master roughly in the chest. Caught off guard the Time Lord stumbled back and Roda pushed forward with more than an ounce of Dutch courage as the Master caught himself on the edge of his desk and stared up at her with surprise and challenge. “We are ending this. Now. Not you and me. You, me and the Seeker. Do you know why I answered your – your summons?” Roda hissed.

“Because you realised the folly of your ways?”

“Because the Seeker wanted us to talk. He understands things far too well, you know. You and I. Why I hate you, but would go mad without all of…” She waved a hand, “This.” The Master raised an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut while Roda ranted on. “You know one of us is going to have to tell him the story one day but right now,” Her voice shook with barely constrained temper, “You and I are going to have to make do with snide comments and veiled threats to keep up occupied, and play happy families for a little while whether we fucking like it or not. Capiche?”

The Master just stared, for a couple of minutes, and gradually Roda’s hearts slowed down to a gentle rhythm and the flush of adrenaline drained from her face. The Master found his perch on the table once more and Roda stood up straight, raising her jaw stubbornly and placing one hand on the bulge of her pistol just in case the situation had just gone very pear-shaped very quickly because of her reckless mood. It didn’t and slowly the Master brought his hands together in a slow applause.

“…Very well.” Roda blinked. “Perhaps we can come to an accord. Name your terms, perhaps I will even stick to them.” Roda’s jaw nearly dropped, “And I will name mine,” He laughed, “As I planned to anyway.”

For the first time either of them could remember doing so, the Redjay and the Master came to a relatively amicable agreement. No killing, no serious maiming, and no manipulation of the Seeker. Roda wouldn’t get in the way of this already established timeline and he in turn would continue to give Bandraginus Five a wide berth.

The unspoken agreement was that neither cared much for the other but that the Seeker’s welfare and feelings were tantamount, each caring more than they liked to admit. The discussion over tea – the office door had been unlocked some time during the conversation, and Roda made sure that the Master drank his first – could almost have been a pleasant one. She suspected the Master wasn’t asking everything of her that he expected nor was he telling her the whole story but for now, she would have to live with a compromise…

She placed her mug down with a clank on the wooden table and pushed herself up from the comfortable chair she had sunk back into an hour later, the fire of what was almost a win blazing in her eyes. 

“And you’re just letting me walk out of your office without so much as a paper cut?” Roda asked, a hint of surprise colouring her words. The Master rolled his eyes and sunk back into place behind his desk, absently clearing the dirty mugs to the side and shuffling his in box back into place. “After all that?”

“Why not?” The Master shrugged. “You’ve earned an iota of my respect.” His eyes narrowed. “At least for now. Of course I’ll be checking in from time to time to make sure certain… promises about not interfering in my work are kept to.”

Roda smiled, her hand hovering over the door handle just as one of the guards at the door opened it from the other side and cleared his throat pointedly. Swallowing, Roda pulled her arm out of reach and looked over her shoulder at the Master, forcing a challenging smirk.

“I’d like to see you find me.”

“Trust me.” The Master’s eyes glinted. “You won’t see me.”

Roda ducked out the door before she could be escorted through it, and before she said something else that she was going to regret. The Master flicked a switch on his holo-monitor, watching her as she broke into a jog down the street, not before causing to kick a piece of rubbish with such venom that it rattled off a streetlamp and a bin before coming to a halt. He was almost certain she was too proud to ask anybody’s help, or likely to even let Alex know they’d even talked. Misguided, insufferable, meddling dissenter that she was…

Pleased to have ruffled the Redjay’s metaphorical feathers so well the Master sank into his chair with a purr, picking up the phone and dialling a single number. It was always pleasant when a good plan fell into place. He may have promised not to harm the Redjay, but that didn’t mean he had promised not to cause her enough trouble to drive her up the wall between her and time his. Or at least until his son lost interest in his latest… fling. And when the Seeker lost interest, or he found a loophole then, well. Perhaps he’d find a way around the annoyingly little eye-for-an-eye clause his son had laid down.

The phone continued to ring and finally, a voice – that of his receptionist – answered. The Master grinned, and hung up after a single order. “Send the latest report to the press. And send a special copy to Torchwood House…”

Twenty minutes down the road and a merry chase away from her TARDIS, Roda fished a mobile phone out of her pocket and placed a call of her own.

“…Doctor. I still can’t pick my fights.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter... is meant to have loose ends. One day I might elaborate on them, but I like to think that large parts of it are just tied up in adventures we don't need to see. The Master's interest in the 22nd century, however, is tied up in 'Galimaufrey'.


	6. Every Time A Bell Rings (by elisi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roda learns the meaning of Christmas.

It was snowing.

Roda stopped in surprise in the doorway of her TARDIS, looking out at the Seeker's courtyard. The invitation had been official - date and time carefully stipulated - if oddly whimsical and mysterious, and she looked around at the scene in astonishment. What on earth did he have planned? The sky was dark, and filled with gently falling flakes that had already settled in a perfectly smooth white blanket on the ground. 

The only illumination came from strings of tiny lights, hung above the main doors and along the curving walls. It was very beautiful, although Roda couldn't help but wonder at the purpose.

The next second the large doors swung open and the Seeker appeared, dressed in a festive green jacket, and smiling widely.

"Roda! Come in, come in, you'll catch your death standing there in the cold."

Daintily making her way across the snow-covered cobblestones she looked at her young lover's beaming face without bothering to hide her confusion.

"What is this?" she asked, but he only smiled wider and brought out a red silk scarf.

"A surprise," he said solemnly. "And I need you to wear this - just for a little while."

A beat, as she eyed the scarf in his hand and tried not to back away. She wasn't good with... restraints. A blindfold was a simple enough thing, and yet-

"Do you trust me?" he asked, voice suddenly serious. "The blindfold isn't necessary really - but your trust is."

Roda knew a symbolic gesture when she saw one, and - momentarily dwelling on her latest, unsettling meeting with the Master, as well as... other recent developments - eventually nodded acquiescence. The Seeker responded with a swift kiss, before tying the scarf around her head. 

"Don't worry, you're going to love it," he murmured, and she smiled, doing her best not to let her nervousness show. Taking her hand he led her through the house, as she tried to orient herself with her other senses. Something was definitely _different_... After a moment she decided that it was the smell. New and unusual smells, strange but very pleasant, and she almost forgot her discomfort as her puzzlement grew.

Eventually they stopped, and she heard a door open, which made the smells intensify, and now she could also hear music. Once through, gentle hands undid the scarf, and - as the Seeker pulled it off with a flourish - he announced:

"Roda. I give you - _Christmas."_

Her eyes widened in pure wonder at what she saw. They were in the main room of his house, but she could barely recognise it.

It was dominated by a large green tree - an Earth tree, one of those with needles that stayed green all year round - although it was covered in colourful ornaments: Something winding and sparkly that she couldn't identify (but that was undeniably pretty), and countless little oddments - shiny round spheres every colour of the rainbow, birds, angels, miniature figures dressed in red, stars, hearts, tiny bells, little upside-down cones hanging from straps... And candles. Hundreds of candles, seemingly one on every branch, bathing the whole room in a warm, flickering glow. 

Slowly she took in the rest of the room, marvelling. It seemed that every surface was covered in decorations, with more of those little lights she’d seen outside strung out across the walls. There were also branches of the evergreen on every surface as well as branches of holly, shiny and spiky, red berries glowing in the light from the candles.

In the fireplace a large fire was merrily blazing, and - mysteriously - on each side a large sock was hanging, one with 'Seeker' embroidered on the top, the other saying 'Roda'. In the middle of the room was a table, decked out with a feast that was surely meant for more than two, even though she could only see two places set. The music was still playing - rich, warm and soft - and had to be coming from some sort of sound-system, as he couldn't have hidden an entire orchestra anywhere. (Although she wouldn’t put it past him.)

"Christmas?" she finally echoed, and he nodded and took her arm.

"Come, sit down and let's have some food. I hope you're hungry? I'm pretty sure I included that in the invitation..."

"You did," she said, continually distracted by the surroundings. 

As they began eating he began expounding (he rather loved talking, but then considering the people who’d brought him up that wasn’t surprising). 

She knew of Christmas already, vaguely - a human tradition tied in with the winter solstice and religion, but the items and symbols all around her were unknown. 

"You've told me so much about Gallifrey, about... all the things I never knew. This is a small way of giving something back? Because this is my childhood, my youth. One of the magical parts of it, one of the things that makes the Doctor love humanity so much. One of the things I wouldn’t be without, ever. And one of those things that can’t be explained, it has to be experienced."

"In that case-" she shifted the paper crown a little as it had slipped into her eyes (it had come out of something called a cracker, along with a small plastic toy and a joke she didn't understand), "-why didn't you invite the Doctor too?"

The Seeker stared at her, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth.

"Oh no no no. The Doctor has _terrible_ Christmases. I think he _attracts_ danger. And I wouldn't want a Cyberarmy marching through my nice living room. Torchwood isn't much better, which is why I didn't invite Jack either. And well... there are other reasons too, of course."

He lifted an eyebrow, and she smiled. The atmosphere was beginning to soak into her (or maybe that was just the wine) - a wonderful feeling of warmth and safety and comfort. And the promise of good things still to come.

The meal seemed to go on forever, but once finished Roda was glad to discover that they weren't going further than the sofa, where the Seeker pressed a button to reveal the built-in screen by the fireplace. 

"I've tried to explain what Christmas is, and the decorations help, but really, this will do it better." Letting his arm slide around her shoulders, he gently kissed her cheek.

"You see - Christmas isn't a party or a commemoration or trees or decorations... It's a miracle."

Too sated from food and drink she didn't respond to this latest declaration, although she was mildly puzzled by the words. Instead she just leaned back to enjoy whatever was coming - human Christmas entertainment would surely be as pleasant as everything else on offer this evening.

She certainly hadn't expected to cry...

It was 'It's A Wonderful Life' that did it. They'd already watched a handful of ‘cartoons’ - one about a mouse and a cat, one featuring some children with oddly shaped heads called ‘Peanuts’, and one with the Simpsons (the funny yellow people Jack had already introduced her to) - and also a marvellous tale about a grouchy old man called Scrooge who was haunted by the Ghosts of Christmas (human tales were surprisingly rich - she couldn’t say she understood it all, but the entertainment factor was certainly high, especially the way half the cast was apparently made of living fabric); but watching the tale of a man standing up to the system, holding onto goodness and righteousness in spite of everything, yet almost despairing as he couldn't see the true impact of his actions and being helped by an unassuming angel... By the end she was a mess, the only thing keeping her upright being the Seeker's arms. Everything she had always believed, affirmed in ways she had never imagined.

"You see?" he whispered, as the credits scrolled past on the screen, and she nodded. 

"Thank you," she finally managed, and he kissed her again, wiping away the tears. 

"Told you it was a miracle..." 

He hesitated, clearly unsure how much to pry, and then obviously decided to leave her be. 

"And now, there's 'The Great Escape' and then Morecambe and Wise. And Wallace and Gromit. And then-"

"Seeker," she said, shaking her head, too touched for words, yet amused. "I will pass out soon."

"That's the idea," he laughed, and she stared: "I can't decide whether this is more wonderful or bizarre. Is there logic to any of it?"

He shook his head.

"None whatsoever, Roda. That's the beauty of it - it's a patchwork quilt of odd traditions, and all you have to do is wrap it around you. Falling asleep is perfectly acceptable."

She eventually dozed off as the two men called Eric and Ernie were doing the strangest dance she had ever seen with a very tall woman whose name had ‘Red’ in it somewhere.

~~~

The next morning she woke on the rug, the Seeker asleep next to her. This was a common occurrence, as - despite the fact that his bed was perfectly large and comfortable - falling asleep in front of the fire was easier still. She didn't remember undressing, but her clothes were neatly folded on the sofa behind them, next to his. Looking around she realised that he'd done more than just tidy her clothes - he'd also cleared away the remainders of the food and all the dirty dishes. Although the droids had probably helped. Still, he had to be exhausted, so she tried to get up as silently as possible when his eyes snapped open.

"Merry Christmas!" he said, and she put a hand on his arm.

"Just sleep dearest," she said, but he shook his head. "Not a chance. It's present time!"

Sitting up he with a sweep of his hand indicated the fire place, and in the dim morning light she - when focussing - noticed that the stockings she'd seen last night were now bulky and lumpy.

"Go on," he urged, and she retrieved the loot, with mounting excitement pulling out a whole host of presents. Gold tipped arrow heads ("In case of Cybermen" he said, rather superfluously), a necklace with her name inscribed in Gallifreyan and several other thoughtful trinkets and oddments, until she neared the bottom of the sock and pulled out a sphere that made her gasp in surprise. 

It was see-through and faintly glowing and covered in circular markings, and within it there was yet another sphere and another within that... the little globes were all slowly turning, creating endless, ever-changing patterns, and she watched it in silence for a long moment, mesmerised. She had not seen its like since before her exile. Slowly she turned to the Seeker, realising that he had gone completely still, watching her with bright eyes.

"What does it unlock?" she asked. A key like this... What could it possibly protect? And why was he giving it to her?

He didn't answer her question, instead tilting his head.

"You've been to see my father," he said, and she nodded, suddenly on edge again. He bit his lip.

"As I am sure he made you aware, I... spoke to him, trying my best to lessen the impact of... _us_. It should last for a while, but-"

He sighed, looking far older than his scant 200 years. "When all is said and done, he is insane. And nothing can really hold him back. So-" 

Eyes fastening on her face, he studied her carefully.

"Am I right in thinking that you don't really have a home, apart from your TARDIS? I know you're presently at Torchwood, but I can't imagine that you'll buy a little house and settle down to 21st Century life any more than the Doctor."

"That's correct..." she said cautiously, unsure where he was going with this, and he nodded.

"You see, I've been thinking. About the future. About us. Because as we both know, you and I-" he followed the line of her lips, as he watched her with quiet sadness and resignation, "-you and I won't last. Apart from anything else, we'd drive each other insane in the long run. Now... as I'm sure you know, my house is as good as Jack's other home, right down to him leaving wet towels on the floor. Except it's not that simple when it comes to you and me, and I don’t want you to feel... _obliged_ towards me in any way. So this is what I came up with."

He plucked the glowing globe out of her hands and held it up.

"This is a key to the planet. I generally keep things fairly open - apart from the standard intruder warnings - but it can be locked should need arise. The only other person I have ever made a key for is Jack, as he is the only person I trusted completely - until you." 

His eyes shifted back to her face. "It's a large planet and I only use a fraction. I want you to consider it as your own. Come and go as you please. Build a house, hunt the game, disappear into a forest - stay as long as you like, no need to ever let me know what you're doing, and _no one_ will be able to find you. You lost a home once, so this is my gift to you, should you ever want it: A safe place to call your own."

Roda could only stare at him in silence, hearts beating as the words refused to make sense. This didn't happen. She was barely aware of his touch as he cupped her cheek. She felt like she had wings - she certainly wasn’t touching the floor any longer.

"The only thing is that I need to do is make the key inherent to you, as I'm sure you know. I tied Jack's key to his immortality, but yours..." A soft smile, and his hand moved to her arm, gently touching her brand. "If you don't mind, then this would be far the best place for hiding it. Thought you might appreciate the irony..."

But she wasn't listening anymore.

A home. He was giving her a home. The thought was too big, too unwieldy to fit. Then her eyes caught a bell, hanging off a red ribbon, part of one of the decorations on the mantle piece, and the previous night came back to her all in a rush - all the stories, all the things he had told her. _(Trust me/It's a miracle/Every time a bell rings/God bless us everyone)_ Love. Family. Friendship. Home. Often far from the home of childhood and real family, but created through kindness and friendship and generosity and the story of a baby born thousands of years before and fat man in red who brought presents and whatever other countless human impulses and stories met up in the moment when the skies were darkest and the hearts warmest.

After last night she understood the meaning of the term 'Christmas Miracle' - and now she had one of her own. 

Clever boy. Clever, clever, beautiful boy. A miracle in himself, she was sure of it.

Finally able to move, she took the globe and carefully placed it on the sofa where it would hopefully be safe. She wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen next, except the feelings building inside her were too strong for mere words.

~~~

_(Mind to mind, touch to touch, skin to skin, luminous passion to luminous passion; a joy that couldn't be contained:_

_'Merry Christmas, Lover'.)_


	7. Goodbye, Lover (by luckweaver)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end. Set after [A Good Day (or: The War in the Medusa Cascade)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1141152/chapters/2308808).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very late request/gift for Elisi, and it broke my heart to write, too.

“By elimination, dishonesty is the second best policy.”  
― **George Carlin**

***

To say that Rodageitmososa had taken the Seeker’s behaviour in the Medusa Cascade ‘badly’ was a gross understatement. It would have been more accurate to say that she’d taken it with all the grace of a tired Time Tot; emphasis on the ‘tired’. As though waking up to another Dalek invasion on yet another planet hadn’t made for a bad enough day she’d been captured, betrayed by her lover and humiliated in front of a centuries-old rival. Looking back on it now that a couple of weeks had passed she was certain she hadn’t come out of it smelling of roses either, but the very idea that the Seeker had been the one in the right was a suggestion Roda found impossible to swallow. And so when someone had begun frantically knocking on her TARDIS door, there’d been very few people she wanted to see less than the architect of the fall.

“... _Seek_ er?”

Something was wrong. They might not have spoken for weeks - perhaps even more, at the Seeker’s end, where time travel was concerned it was impossible to tell. It might even have only been hours for him - but that didn’t mean Roda couldn’t read him like a book. Albeit a book with some pages missing, these days. Against her better judgement Roda leapt forward, reaching out a hand to steady him, or check him over for injuries, though quite why _this_ regeneration of his would come to her for help after everything he’d done was beyond her.

“What happened? Are you hu-”

“No, I’m not hurt.” The Time Lord’s expression was blank, almost empty. Roda’s brow knitted into a frown. “Not anymore.”

“Then what…”

Realisation dawned on her as Roda took a step back, looking him over one more time. The Seeker wasn’t wearing that deep, purple coat he’d worn last time they’d met, the one that he’d seemed to consider a second suit. His mark of office. No matter how hard the Seeker tried to be unlike the Doctor and the Master there were certainly things that had rubbed off on him and the sense that he had to have a certain _look_ about him was definitely one he’d had, in all the time they’d known each other well. And yet here he was, not dressed in purple, his hair and clothes dishevelled and even ill-fitting. It was so unlike him that Roda almost wasn’t sure it was the Seeker standing in front of her. But she’d recognize him anywhere, even with a new face. She opened her mouth to ask him another question before the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

“You regenerated.”

“Well,” the Seeker blinked, clearly confused by the statement. “Obviously.”

“No, I mean…” Roda ran a hand through her hair, absentmindedly shuffling him into her TARDIS and shutting the door behind them. “You _just_ regenerated.”

“Yes,” the Seeker laughed, in a sense, but there was no humour in his voice. In fact, it almost seemed to break as he continued. “That’s… that’s kind of why I’m here.” Seemingly oblivious to Roda’s discomfort the younger Time Lord sunk into the captain’s chair beside her console, his unkempt black hair falling around his hands. Quite the contrast to the immaculately swept back red hair he’d had when he’d been hers (which had given him a sophisticated look which wasn’t Roda’s usual sort of thing (actually, the black hair was but that wasn’t the point) but that she’d certainly liked on him.).“Roda I… I screwed up. _Really_ screwed up.”

Roda sighed, but let the Seeker talk. She owed him that much - considering their history - and angry though she was the idea of turning him away when he was hurting was just so… _alien_ to her. That was how their relationship had begun, after all; the Seeker had come to her for comfort and help and she had taken a leap of faith. But this time it was harder. As the Seeker explained how he had regenerated - something about trying to build a Matrix? She stored that away for later on. He can’t have built a Matrix, surely - she couldn’t help but picture the Medusa Cascade. Little mannerisms in the Seeker’s speech and hand gestures, now, that had become commonplace by that point in his life. How long would it be, for him, before that day happened? Days? Months? Years?

He was trying to get her attention. With a stab of guilt Roda realised that she wasn’t paying attention. At some point during her thoughts she had sat down on a bare portion of the console and crossed her arms over her chest the same way that Jack did. She shook her head, blinking, and reached out to put a hand on the Seeker’s arm, the gesture oddly strange. Detached. The Seeker looked up at her with so much expectation in his eyes, and confusion. Roda opened her mouth to apologise - she’d ask him to repeat it, try to pay attention this time - but before the words could leave her lips the Seeker lurched forward and kissed her.

Roda flinched, her hands coming up at her sides where they would usually have wrapped around him. The Seeker was hungry, needy, like that day all those years ago when they’d kissed for the first time and all Roda could feel was anger. Horrible, selfish anger. How could he turn up here and expect comfort after the pain he’d caused her? And not just her, but Jack, and the Doctor… even his father? Though she couldn’t begin to know what went through the Master’s eyes, the Seeker had just _left_ them all after cutting them out of one of the worst days since the Time War. Though she could understand why he’d done it, she still couldn’t understand how he could do it to them. 

“No.” Roda couldn’t return the kiss. There was too much going through her mind, too much pain and anger and guilt. She put her hand on the Seeker’s chest and pushed him away, straightening up in the same movement. The Seeker’s mouth stayed open for a second longer, as though his brain hadn’t quite caught up with what had happened. The look that he finally gave her made both of Roda’s hearts break again. “I’m sorry, I… can’t.”

She could see the gears working in his head; ever the logistician, the Seeker was trying to work out what step had gone wrong, where the time-honoured tradition had failed. But it wasn’t him. Well - it wasn’t him yet. And Roda, damn it… she couldn’t tell him why she was pushing him away. It was something he’d have to - no, it was something he would work out for himself. He’d told her as much, in the Medusa Cascade. She finally knew what he’d meant when he’d said she’d broken up with him. At the time she hadn’t understood but now the tables were turned.

Still trying to piece together the puzzle, oblivious to his own prophecy, the Seeker shot her a self-deprecating smile and ran his hand through his curly black hair.

“What, you don’t like the new look?” Roda sighed inwardly. There was the Jack in the Seeker. The built-up wall of confidence that hid the hurt. They both needed the immortal for very different reasons (and took very different things from him) but some things were the same. Would it be Jack that the Seeker would go to, next? He needed someone; that someone just couldn’t be her today. Would things ever be the same again? “I would’ve thought you’d be used to this, Time Lord and-”

“It’s not that.” Her hands made empty gestures in the air as she fished for the right words to say. There weren’t any. “We just…” Roda pinched the bridge of her nose with both hands, and let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “We can’t do this anymore. _I_ can’t.”

“Then what? Roda, just tell me what I’ve-”

The Seeker reached out for her, and it was all that Roda could do not to take his hand in her own. “Please, Seeker,” she turned her head, busying herself with nothing in particular on the console. The lights of her TARDIS dimmed, and she pulled her hand away as a static shock made its opinion of her actions quite clear. _Please don’t_ , she begged the TARDIS silently. “Don’t make this any harder than it already is.” Her gut clenched. The lie felt like glue in her mouth. “I just don’t _want_ you anymore.”

The silence that followed somehow made everything worse. Would the Seeker forgive her once he knew the real reason why she was breaking up with him? She continued to press buttons on the console almost at random, refusing to make eye contact with the Seeker as he sat beside her - speechless, for one of the first times in his life. A hand strayed to her face, pushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes absentmindedly. It was a nervous tic of hers, the fidgeting and moving, back an unconscious one as she circled around the console, plugging in the first coordinates that sprung to mind. A quick trip to Nottingham, clear her head. Fire off a few shots with her bow. She would head back to Torchwood later, in time for work and if Jack figured out that something was wrong then, well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. She always did.

Her hand hovered over the lever to put the TARDIS into flight and as though coming to a conclusion at last the Seeker stood up, cleared his throat and adjusted his too-big lapels. “I’ll… leave you to it, then.”

“If you need to use the Zero Room, it’s always-”

“No.” His tone faltered for just a second, and then there was nothing in his voice to suggest he was anything other than entirely collected. “The regeneration went fine; it just happened unexpectedly.”

Roda paused, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the humming console while fighting to keep her voice steady. “A lot of things do.”

“Another important lesson.” The Seeker froze in the doorway to the TARDIS, eyes locked ahead. “Goodbye, lover.”

“Be careful.”

“Oh Roda,” the Seeker laughed dryly. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

As the TARDIS doors closed on their relationship, Roda pulled the lever and let herself sink to the floor as the TARDIS dematerialized. Something was missing, and she might never get it back.

“No,” she murmured, closing her eyes and dropping her head into her hands, “that’s not it at all.”


End file.
